Categories
Event

Film journalist says ‘I hate Bollywood’

‘I hate Bollywood’ is Mumbai film journalist Rohit Khilnani’s debut novel, which was launched by Bollywood film actor Amitabh Bachchan.
by The Editors | editor@themetrognome.in

Amidst a packed house, Bollywood megastar Amitabh Bachchan launched well-known entertainment journalist, Rohit Khilnani’s debut novel, I Hate Bollywood at Sofitel, BKC, Mumbai.

At the launch of Rohit’s book, Bachchanspoke at length about a chapter in the book, ‘The Hospital Beat’. The chapter talks about how reporters cover celebrities when they are admitted in the hospital. It focusses on reporters outside Lilavati Hospital when Bachchan was admitted there in 2006. “Of course the media has to do its job, but there have been times when my car couldn’t move because the media had blocked the way,” he said, also recollecting an incident when a reporter had entered the hospital in disguise. “Jaya asked me why am I giving interviews from the hospital room, I told her I have not given any interview. Later we realised that this reporter had entered my room dressed as a doctor.”

To which the author admitted, “Yes, media can be insensitive sometimes!”

Speaking at the launch, Rohit said, “From my 15 years of experience in film journalism, I have realised one thing: everyone wants to know more and more about Bollywood. So I thought of putting my experiences on paper for all those who love or hate Bollywood. Of course, I have made a fiction story out of it so that it entertains the reader. I Hate Bollywood is like a masala film, it has action, drama and romance!”

The novel takes an interesting look at Bollywood from a reporter’s point of viewBorn and brought up in Chembur, a Mumbai suburb, in the ’80s, Raghu Kumar has his first brush with filmstars as a child. Ever since, he is intrigued by the workings of Bollywood. In the ’90s, Raghu is hired by popular film journalist Rajeev Mehra for the newspaper The News, where his big story is an interview of yesteryear star Parveen Babi. Thus starts his tryst with journalism. He then moves on to reporting for news channels, where he has his own programme.

But a trap is laid by a senior colleague to trip him up and he walks right into it. It takes him two years to bounce back. Despite doing well, hobnobbing with top filmstars and getting invited to the best parties in town, Raghu still hates Bollywood.

Rohit Khilnani is the Entertainment Editor at Headlines Today. He specialises in Bollywood and has worked closely with the who’s who of the Hindi film industry. He started his career as a freelance writer for India’s leading newspapers, including The Times of India and The Indian Express. He has previously worked for NDTV and CNN-IBN.

Categories
Cinema@100

When Dharam paaji changed clothes on the roads

Up to the 1980s, Indian film stars would change in makeup rooms or people’s homes or even in secluded woods. Vanity vans didn’t exist till the late 1980s.
by Jatin Sharma

Vanity vans are an essential part of film stars’ lives today. Why just film stars, even starlets shooting for music videos or ads get their own vanity van these days, depending on the production house and its budget.

Shahrukh Khan’s vanity van costs almost the same as the budget for a small movie: a whopping Rs 3.5 crore. It has all the facilities that a little house can provide: an air conditioner, a refrigerator, an oven, a master bedroom, massage seats, and many more that one could never imagine were fitted inside what is, essentially, a vehicle.

Salman Khan’s vanity van took about seven months to be designed and finished as it had to be customised for the Khan. His van even has a ramp that allows his car to get in and out.

manmohan desaiThough you’d think that vanity vans have been around forever – after all, how would one dress and put on makeup and rest in between shots, if not for a vanity van – you would be suprised to know that yesteryear megastars like Rajesh Khanna, Madhubala, Dev Anand, Raj Kapoor, Hema Malini, Dharmendra and Amitabh Bachchan spent most of their careers without a vanity van. In fact, the first vanity van came to Bollywood in the late 1980s when Manmohan Desai (in pic on left) gifted one to Amitabh Bachchan.

This information was shared by the ever-charming Dharam paaji when I interviewed him during the promotions of Yamla Pagla Deewana, in which he starred with his sons Sunny and Bobby. Dharam paaji revealed lot of things about the Hindi film industry, and one of them was interesting story about what stars and indeed, all actors, did before vanity vans became the norm in Bollywood.

I asked him, “How did the stars manage before vanity vans?”

He replied, “Whenever the shooting was in the studio, we would share makeup rooms. We would get an individual makeup room if we were that important. And whenever we used to go to shoot outdoors, we would ask the production people to form a circle and change our clothes on the roads or behind the trees, sometimes.”

In the case of female actors, he said, the story was even more interesting. “They would go to people’s houses in the vicinity of the shoot. And if the location was not closer to the shoot, then a four-pole tribal tent would be erected, where the actress could change. Five or six dharmendraproduction people would provide security for her.”

He added that makeup would be done on the road or in the production bus, whose actual purpose was to shift the film equipment and crew from spot to spot.

“It was Manmohan Desai, the director and producer who was a visionary. He got the first vanity van for himself as he had a back pain. (In it, he is learnt to have fit a bed, a television set and even a mirror to watch the TV even with his back to it!) And later he got the first vanity van for his star Amitabh Bachchan. All the other stars of Indian cinema then got exposed to the luxury of a vanity van, and realised they could enjoy some privacy if they had a vanity van of their own. Now, of course, everybody has one.”

(Pictures courtesy pawanpipalwa.blogspot.com, www.gomolo.com, www.funrahi.com)

Categories
Overdose

I love Monday

Why do we hate Mondays? Is it just the thought of going to work or is it something even deeper?
by Jatin Sharma

For the first time ever, I think I can claim exclusive rights to the title of this column.

Because this is an exclusive thought.

Come Monday, and there’s a deluge of email forwards talking about how people hate Mondays. There are scores of posts on social networking sites describing how Monday should be ticked off the list and how much they hate it. It’s like Monday is this monster that devours entire populations of people.

If Monday was a person, he/she would have felt really bad, almost to the point of being suicidal. For no reason at all, Monday bears the brunt of collective hatred as the work week begins.

Why do we hate Mondays, though? It can’t only be because we hate having to push ourselves out of a mini-break mood over the weekend to go to work. Or is it because we don’t like our work much? If it’s the latter, it doesn’t make much sense: do we realise that the work we do on Monday, and on the days after that, is what gives us enough money to spend on the weekends in the first place?

I think we all hate Monday not because it’s the day that starts off another work week, but because we like to waste our time (the way we do on  weekends) and continue wasting time till such time that we are not actually forced back into work. I’ve seen several successful individuals working hard and with equal passion, whatever day of the week it is. I can’t imagine Sachin Tendulkar waking up in a grump because he has a match to play on Monday. At his age, even Amitabh Bachchan seems upbeat every day, working whether it’s Monday or not.

Is it because these two gentlemen really love what they do?

Lots of people are by now armed with the excuse that Sachin and Amitabh don’t have to brave public transport to get to work, and they have so much money already that they need never work in their lives ever again. You are right, but that situation exists now. At the start of his career, Sachin wouldn’t sit at a desk counting the money he made after every match. Amitabh Bachchan was rejected as an All India Radio announcer – a job his heart was set on. But that failure didn’t hold him back, and see where he is today.

We’ve forgotten what our parents kept telling us: Work is worship. That work is closest to Godliness. That work is what defines us and what we will be in life.

Hating Monday is surely not going to help anyone. I was resentful of Mondays, too. But I realised that I really loved my job. Sure, for a lot of people the thought of going to work is awful. Many people have a bad boss, a bad salary package, bad working conditions. But the trick is to still love your work, and love it wholeheartedly, at least while you’re doing it. If you keep telling yourself, “Things are not perfect but I still love my work,” your resentment towards Mondays will disappear. You won’t even feel so elated going home on Friday.

If you shift the hate and turn it into love (or even like), Mondays will be something that you start looking forward to. Mondays will be the reason you exist. I love my Mondays because I love the thrill of starting a new work week and taking new challenges head-on. Sure, I love being happy on the job but I also embrace the moments of sadness that sometimes come with it.

So on this lovely Monday, tell yourself this: “I love Mondays. I love my life. I love me. And I love my work.” Say it often. Say it and believe it.

Jatin Sharma is a media professional who doesn’t want to grow up, because if he grows up, he will be like everyone else. 

(Pictures courtesy blog.theshuttergypsy.com, iamtantra.com)

Categories
Hum log

Bollywood’s poster boy

Artist, free hand painter Ranjit Dahiya is bringing Bollywood alive in Mumbai for a year, one wall at a time.
by Vrushali Lad | vrushali@themetrognome.in

Ranjit Dahiya is 33, charming and quite direct. He pays full attention when you’re speaking, is disarmingly honest, and wears his small town origins with enviable confidence. “I come from a small village in Haryana, and I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do as a young boy,” he remembers. “Art happened to me because it was an avenue that I decided to explore on a whim. I didn’t know any English, I didn’t know what art was supposed to be.” And yet, he graduated from National Institute of Design (NID) Delhi and holds a Fine Arts degree from a Chandigarh college – but everything’s come with a bit of a struggle.

Today, Ranjit is celebrated as an artist, especially since he founded and started the Bollywood Art Project (BAP), a community visual art project under which he hand paints popular people and moments in Hindi cinema on walls that are located in public spaces. He stays at Bandra and has also worked on walls in this suburb, though he is looking at ‘good walls’ in other places as well. “I came to Mumbai in 2008 because I got a job as a graphic designer with a website here,” he says. “I had just passed from NID. When I came to Mumbai, I realised that there were not enough art installations or paintings in the city. So I became very interested with The Wall Project, and met up with them to understand what they were doing.”

Through the Wall Project, Ranjit got the chance to visit Paris and later, Le Rochelle, both times to paint Bollywood-themed canvases. “I painted at 12′ x 32′ poster of Amitabh Bachchan at Paris, and I finished it in four days. The greatest moment for me was when Mr Bachchan himself arrived at the fest and congratulated me on my work – I have always been a great fan!” he beams.

His two trips made him realise that people abroad really loved Bollywood. “They like the style, the culture, the drama. This year, I started the BAP because I wanted to celebrate the spirit of Bollywood in my own way, in the city that I live in,” he explains.

Childhood scenes

Ranjit’s parents, both employed with the Government, expectedly wanted him to get an education and a stable job, but he flunked his college exams and his father told him to go tend to the fields that the family owned. “I actually loved going to the fields,” he smiles. “But my father wondered what I would do with my life. Then a relative once met me and said that I could learn how to whitewash walls from him. Soon, I was working with different contractors and whitewashing walls; for each job, I would get Rs 40.”

A few months later, he met a school friend who was studying to be an engineer. “He asked me what I was doing, and was stunned with my answer. He asked me if I had heard of Fine Arts. I said I hadn’t, and the conversation was promptly forgotten,” he says. At the time, the local school wanted a Saraswati painting done in its premises, and Ranjit volunteered. “People said, ‘What do you know about painting?’, but I had always loved drawing and painting, even when I was very young. I did a 6′ x 4′ Saraswati painting on a wall, and everybody liked it,” he remembers.

Spurred by this, he decided to visit a relative in Panipat, who promised to teach him how to write with paints and do other paint work. “I sat for my failed college year during this time, and returned after a year to apprentice with a local painter. You know, doing ‘Mera gaon, mera desh‘ kind of stuff. Then one day I remembered my friend and that he’d said something about Fine Art. I decided to check it out,” he says. After obtaining some basic information on Fine Art courses, I sat for and passed the entrance exam and got admission to a college in Chandigarh.”

“I was the small town boy from the village, I didn’t know what ‘art’ was, and my medium of instruction was Hindi,” he remembers. “It was tough, but I slowly got the hang of it. In my fourth year, I heard of this place called NID (National Institute of Design), and I asked a senior, ‘Sir, what is NID?’ His prompt reply was, ‘Forget it, you can never go there,'” Ranjit chuckles.

Adamant to get into NID, he sat for their entrance exam and failed spectacularly. “My lack of English had let me down. I wondered what to do next, getting really confused about several available options. Finally, I burnt all the college prospectuses I had gathered, and reapplied to NID.” In the meantime, however, he put in a solid year of English learning. “I would read the newspapers and whichever books I could find. Soon, I began to understand the language, at least enough to know what was being said. I had flunked the entrance exam because I hadn’t understood the questions,” he says.

The NID life

The next time he appeared for the NID exam, he understood the questions, though his English was still questionable. “I cleared the exam, but I continued to flounder in the course because I had no idea about art. Finally, the faculty asked me to withdraw from the programme, because I didn’t have the required aesthetics and depth, or to take an extra year on my Foundation Course. I chose the latter option,” he says.

After spending over two years in one batch and submitting a live project comprising a 206-page document in English, plus an ‘identity’ for a museum in Pune, Ranjit was convocated in 2007. This year, he started the BAP “out of passion”. He says, “The best thing about BAP was that it helped me get back to painting. I had been working full time, but a job makes me complacent. So I take up freelance work and I founded by own company, Digital Moustache.”

The Bollywood connect

“I’ve always loved Bollywood films, and when I was very young, I’d painted a gate with the face of a hero from a film magazine,” he remembers. “I hadn’t realised that the connect with films was so strong, strong enough for me to want to be associated with Bollywood in some capacity. Cinema builds our culture and perceptions, and it is a record of our lives and the times we live in. I am enjoying the BAP because I love Bollywood,” he explains.

His dream is to revive the Bollywood posters industry, and he is currently scouting for the best wall to paint yesteryear dancer and actor Helen on. “Many people criticise my work, saying that what I do is just copy from somewhere, there is no originality. I don’t care about all of this as long as I am enjoying my work. There are a lot more people who are enjoying my work, and their appreciation gives me a real high,” he grins.

 

 

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